The bites on my thighs are baby-height. The bites on my arms are all on the right side because that’s where I hold him. He whips his head around and chomps (I think he might growl even) and once his teeth are clamped, it’s over. And oh, the pain.
And while I’m getting constantly bitten by this voracious teether, I can’t help but recall a post by Mimbles not too long ago, which includes a photo of what happened when her leg got caught between a dog and a cat having a tiff.
I thought we could perhaps start a new theme: What Happens When Cute, Cuddly Creatures Attack You, Even Though They Really Don’t Mean It.
My thighs:
I have other pictures, too. My arms and stomach, for instance. But maybe I’ll save them; I’m still recovering from the fact that I think I’m about to post a picture of my thighs on the internet.